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Archive for August, 2009

Everything I say is not a poem
It’s a Cleveland thing
structurally appropriate
3 digit rugs
coupling nuts
truckstops

They try to get you with the tea
no faking that boy out
he knows when something’s up

You’re a page ahead of me

Hands I have forgotten
salt & rust
works of hands
blown clean by unemployment
crying rivers in the shower
missing hubcaps
wrinkled, clumsy, silent
hands
genuine Cleveland black oxide
blood & saliva down the drain

I had shut out the internet
lies they tell white girls
tasty fiddleheads
people in a hurry on Sunday
hurry up & pray to god
hurry up & pray to god

they attempt to throw our state parks
under the bus
coat hanger love

even the ants won’t eat the margarine

it’s safer for me sometimes
to go out on a limb
because I have you
to pull me back in

I never thought I’d be so excited to eat chicken pot pie

he sniffed me when I mentioned your name
fortunate little DNA package
bridge game gone bad
kiss snort snuffle drip
bat eyes chasing flies
away

waiters flirt for their tips
minimum payment layaway
vines wrapped in concrete & rebar
your name playing soundtrack loop in my brain

there is no recession in heaven
diluted sorrow in a puddle
folding too early
feet remembered walking away

we are at homeostasis
no overload
no backing

WeBiLo

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